Xavier's Arc

Chapter 7 of 21

The howl came before dawn. Xavier woke on the platform planks with the tiger's head raised beside him. Below, something dragged itself around the trunk. He crawled to the edge and looked down through the hanging vines. A gaunt wolf-thing paced the mud. Its ribs pushed against a torn coat. One shoulder wept a dark wound. It could not climb, but it would not leave. It had smelled the tiger and marked the ground its own. By noon the hunger reached the platform too. Xavier's fox cub whined and pressed to his leg. The tiger huffed and paced. They had no meat up here, and no way down. The starving hunter blocked every path to solid ground. If Xavier climbed down, it would take him. If he waited, they would all starve together in the leaves. He watched the beast limp its slow circle. Its wound smelled of rot. Then he remembered the flower roots. He had used them to heal the tiger's leg. He had a fistful drying on the wall of the hut. A healing root, offered to a starving hunter, might change nothing. But a hunter that could hunt again would leave to find easier prey. Xavier tore fresh strips from the tiger's morning kill scraps and pressed a soft root into the meat. He gripped his bone knife in one hand. The serrated blade had cut this same tiger once. He would not throw it. He would throat this beast only if it charged the ramp. He dropped the baited meat over the edge. The hunter froze. It sniffed the meat, ribs heaving. Then it ate. Xavier dropped a second piece, then a third, each stuffed with root. The beast crept closer under the tree and swallowed them whole. Its shoulder still wept, but it stopped pacing. It lay down in the mud and breathed slow. By dusk the wound had closed to a pink seam. The beast rose, tested the healed leg, and turned its nose to the wind. Somewhere past the reeds, easier game moved. It loped off toward the tree line and did not look back. Xavier watched the mud until it was empty. He let his knife hand drop. He climbed down the vine ramp with the tiger behind him. The ground held them again. But at the trunk he found deep claw marks gouged into the bark, higher than his head. The starving thing had tried to climb after all. It had failed only because it was weak. A strong hunter, drawn by the tiger's scent, would reach the platform. Berry had warned him the height was only a start. Now Xavier saw it plain. The shelter could not hide them. To keep the tiger and ride it free of this trap, he had to move deeper, to ground no hunter would follow. He looked out at the swamp and began to plan the leaving.